The following weeks blurred into Aurelian's closed-door meeting with his teachers Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel. All those days were marked by a tension that seemed on the verge of shattering the very foundations of an already fragile magical society.
The secret could not be contained much longer, and the news spread like wildfire.
On a particularly cold morning, owls flooded the Great Hall, dropping copies and copies of newspapers that made students and teachers pale as they read their front pages. Colossal headlines in black ink covered the front pages of The Daily Prophet in Great Britain, The New York Ghost in America, and Le Cri de la Gargouille in France.
TERROR RETURNS! GELLERT GRINDELWALD WAS NEVER DEAD, ESCAPES FROM NURMENGARD.
Magical governments around the world panicked and then flew into a rage. For nearly half a century, the masses had been led to believe that the evil Dark Lord had withered and died in that legendary battle, but the truth was that he had always been locked away in a cell in his own impenetrable prison. Discovering not only that he had been alive all this time, but that he was now free and recruiting again, was a devastating blow to the credibility of the authorities.
Fierce criticism and demands for explanations rained down on Archmage Albus Dumbledore. The International Confederation of Wizards demanded to know how it was possible that Nurmengard's defenses had failed, and why the man who defeated him in 1945 had not executed him when he had the chance.
Amid the diplomatic chaos, MACUSA took the lead. The President of the Magical Congress of the United States issued an official statement that was broadcast on the global magical wireless network, calling for public calm. He assured listeners in a firm voice that his elite Auror squads were on high alert and absolutely determined to hunt down the "dangerous Archmage" before he could cross the Atlantic and threaten them.
Unfortunately, the global response was not uniform.
Several more skeptical ministries—those in regions that had not experienced firsthand the atrocities of Grindelwald's first war and considered the villain to be a decrepit old man not worth worrying about—responded with apathy and some disinterest. They raised their security levels and installed additional patrols only because of immense international pressure, without any real intention or belief that danger was imminent.
Aurelian, sitting in his usual place at the Slytherin table, drank his black tea in silence as his eyes scanned the pages of The Daily Prophet.
He lowered the newspaper slightly and looked around the Great Hall. Fear was an almost palpable entity in the air. First-year students cried as they read hysterical letters from their parents asking them to come home. Senior professors such as McGonagall and Flitwick had tense faces and grim expressions, vividly recalling the horrors of their youth. Even Severus Snape seemed more sullen and paranoid than usual, his eyes darting from side to side as if he expected an attack at any moment.
Everyone felt the weight of the threat. Knowing that Gellert Grindelwald was out there, and that his Acolytes were awakening from their long slumber, was enough to chill the blood of even the bravest wizard.
For Aurelian, all this 'Chaos' was something he couldn't control. He still didn't have the power or authority to be a voice of influence in the coming war. For now, all he could do was stay alert.
Hestia and Flora read the newspaper over his shoulder with slight indifference.
"All this fuss over an old man," Flora murmured, spreading jam on a piece of toast.
"The magical world has always been cowardly, fearing the first sign of power," agreed Hestia, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Although... they say his magic is unmatched. Do you think that's a problem for us, my love?"
Aurelian carefully folded the newspaper and set it aside.
"Grindelwald is a very dangerous person, his power and ability to persuade others should not be underestimated. You must also remember that he is an Archmage, girls," Aurelian replied quietly, making sure no one else could hear them. "But his war against Muggles and the Statute of Secrecy is worrying. We have our own goals. When the time is right, we will deal with him. In the meantime, we can only trust that Dumbledore and the Ministries will pursue his shadow."
Despite the global terror shaking the outside world, the social bubble of Hogwarts refused to burst. The British Ministry, in a desperate attempt to project an image of normality and strength to its citizens and other countries, had ordered school activities to continue without interruption.
The Triwizard Tournament would not be stopped by a ghost from the past. The Second Task, with its dark secrets beneath the icy waters of the Black Lake, was inevitably approaching.
The Hogwarts library was shrouded in an oppressive silence. The smell of parchment and dust mingled with the palpable tension radiating from the secluded table where they sat.
Harry Potter rubbed his eyes wearily, pushing aside a heavy tome on 15th-century magical cryptography. Next to him, Ron leafed through a book on creatures without even looking at the pages, his gaze lost and his face unusually pale. In front of them, Hermione nibbled on the tip of her quill, her usual concentration broken by anxious glances toward the windows.
No one at that moment could concentrate on the stupid golden egg.
The shadow of Gellert Grindelwald hung over them all. Knowing that the most lethal dark wizard of the last century was on the loose and gathering strength made holding a school tournament feel ridiculous and, at the same time, terrifyingly insignificant.
Harry shook his head, trying to clear the fog that had taken hold of his mind and everyone else's in the castle. He couldn't afford to think about Grindelwald now; he had a trial to pass and a reputation to restore.
He stood up, scraping the chair against the stone floor.
"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," he announced quietly.
Ron nodded distractedly and Hermione barely murmured a confirmation. Neither of them really paid attention to him.
Harry sighed and left the library, walking through the half-empty corridors. As he walked, a dark and selfish thought crossed his mind. A small, twisted part of him silently thanked Grindelwald for showing up. Thanks to the international panic and chaos caused by the Archmage's escape, the gossip and mockery about the humiliating kick to the groin he had received at the Christmas Ball had almost completely disappeared. The school had much bigger things to worry about, forgetting about Harry Potter's disastrous love life.
As he turned the corner into the fifth-floor hallway, the sound of footsteps and voices made him stop dead in his tracks.
"I owe you big, time again, really."
Harry recognized the voice instantly. Cedric Diggory. And beside him, walking with his characteristic elegance and poise, was the insufferable Aurelian Gaunt.
Harry's stomach twisted with a mixture of envy and aversion. Quickly, he pressed himself against the stone wall, hiding in the shadows behind the pedestal of the statue of Boris the Bewildered, praying inwardly that they hadn't seen him.
He tilted his head slightly, peeking out just enough to see them, and listened intently.
"You have nothing to thank me for, Cedric," Gaunt said. His tone was casual, sounding friendly.
Then Gaunt let out a soft, controlled laugh. Harry clenched his fists. Oh, how he hated that laugh. It sounded so perfect, so clean, as if the whole world were a joke that only Gaunt understood, giving him an aura of superiority.
"You would have figured it out yourself sooner or later," Gaunt continued. "You're a smart wizard, after all. When we talked, you were already close to figuring it out."
Cedric laughed too, running a hand through his brown hair with obvious relief.
"Maybe, but it would have taken me weeks and a lot of headaches," admitted the silly badger. "Honestly, it would never have occurred to me to put the damn egg underwater so I could hear it. How did you know that would work, Aurelian? It was the sirens' song... it makes perfect sense now."
Harry's eyes widened. His breath caught for a second.
"Underwater?"
The piece of the puzzle clicked into place in his mind with great clarity. "Of course. The deafening screech in the common room wasn't a cry of pain, it was the voice of the sirens outside their natural element. Obviously it was going to sound awful."
Harry didn't wait to hear any more. A smile of utter triumph spread across his face. He retraced his steps, tiptoeing until he was far enough away, then began to walk quickly, his heart pounding.
"What idiots," Harry thought, feeling a wave of euphoria wash over him. "Gaunt thinks he's so superior for giving the answer to that fool Diggory, but in the end, I was the one who came out on top without lifting a finger."
Now he had the key. He just needed to find a place with enough water to submerge the egg and discover exactly what awaited him in the Second Task. And this time, he wouldn't let anyone down. He would prove to everyone, especially Gaunt, that the Potter name meant victory.
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